


If I Could Colour You In

by wewerenevertragedies



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: And More Fluff, Drabble, Implied Liam Payne, M/M, Niall Horan - Freeform, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Zayn Malik - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 10:25:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1092785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wewerenevertragedies/pseuds/wewerenevertragedies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis realizes how orange his world is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Could Colour You In

**Author's Note:**

> This friend of mine was eating a tangerine and I found myself fascinated by its colour and oops

_Orange_.

 

That's what Louis' life is all about.

 

The orange of the early sunrise creeping through the glass opposite his and Harry's bed, lighting up the room and making it seem like it's on fire. It makes its way onto Harry's bare back, defining every line and every soft dip of each one of his muscles; the intense light reflecting against his fine, long eyelashes and creating shadows upon his cheekbones.

 

Honey orange is the colour of Harry's eyes as they stare up at the Californian sunset, lying on the warm sand, or as the tiniest ray of sunshine hits the curly-haired boy's eyes and mixes in with the emerald green.

 

Orange is the old beanie Harry wears every so often and which slips off his curls as Louis fists it enthusiastically as his lips dance with his boyfriend's plump ones. Lips gliding gently, breaths mingling and orange _exploding_ in his chest like a swarm of butterflies and _warmth, so much warmth_.

 

Orange is the colour Harry always uses to tint the cupcakes icing, arguing it's his favourite colour and he will not replace it no matter what, as the older boy whines about how his skin is going to turn that same shade soon enough and the fans will laugh because they'll think he ate too many carrots, whereas the press will just blame it on first-time spray tanning.

 

And Louis' mind wanders off to the old days, when the colour showed up and took over his life, lighting up even his dullest days and matching his mood to the natural tan of his skin.

 

Orange was the colour of Haz's toothbrush back in the X Factor days, always sitting in the plastic cup of the boys' restroom and which the lad would use every single night to brush his teeth meticulously. At least on the nights when Louis didn't need to drag his lazy bum off the couch and to their bedroom, letting him skip the hygiene step only because he hated waking him up when he looked so adorably exhausted and because he really didn't care about the boy's morning breath getting even worse than usual because he was way too in love with him despite not having the guts to just _kiss_ those pink lips and shout his feelings for everyone to know back then.

 

Orange were the wild flames from the bonfire they'd made at Harry's bungalow back when the group had just been born. The sizzling tongues of scorching heat and light reflecting on the four pairs of sleepy eyes before him, the young orbs already ignited by the fire of hope and passion from within their very cores, and Louis just _had_ to laugh because the smoke was beginning to mess with their eyes and getting them red and watery and " _Hell, who put pot in Harry's cake batter?_ "

 

What he really wonders though, is how so much orange hasn’t burnt him, how it is that he’s come out pretty much unscathed. Because it does burn a little, right inside his chest, and then extends to the whole of his body. It’s a good burn though; not the one which leaves you moaning and writhing in pain on the ground, but the one you wish stayed forever, just because it makes you feel cozy and sleepy and at home.

 

He doesn’t even understand how it hasn’t blinded him, at least. But then he goes over everything all over again, and he remembers the orange whenever Harry smiles at Niall a bit too cheerfully, or when Zayn hugs his boyfriend’s waist from behind, as well. And how the burning gets that little bit annoying and uncomfortably tick _lish_ , although not fully painful but certainly impossible to ignore or simply shoo away. And how the warmth seems to settle back as soon as Harry gets the hint and smiles at him, dimples and all, and mouths “ _I love you_ ”.

 

And right when Harry starts getting a bit restless and tossing his long legs around until bumping them to Louis’ and crawling to the older boy’s chest, he then decides that he likes orange. He _loves_ it. And he’ll take the burn, the tickles, the excessive warmth and the blinding light as long as he gets to wake up next to it every morning for the rest of his life.


End file.
